


December

by rage_quitter



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: 31 Days of McHanzo, Fluff, Holidays, M/M, Noodle Dragons, they're married and in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 08:01:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12883530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rage_quitter/pseuds/rage_quitter
Summary: 31 Days of McHanzo (mostly fluff! Check each day for individual tags)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> puremchanzo on tumblr has a cute 31 days event, so I'm gonna try to do all the ones I can~  
> Day 1: Welcome Home

McCree woke up warm and cozy. Almost too warm, actually, he thought as he drifted into consciousness. Especially right on his back--there was something very warm, putting pressure on him.

He groaned and shifted his head, noting with mild disgust that he had drooled on his pillow a little bit. He moved his arms.

The thing on his back moved, too, with a grouchy little growl in his ear.

McCree blinked and felt a smile on his face. He chuckled. “Morning to you too, Udon. How long’ve you been here?”

The dragon only huffed softly and curled up tighter. 

“Now, hold on, little guy, don’t you get too cozy there, I gotta answer nature’s call,” McCree said. “Sorry about this.” With that, McCree rolled onto his back and caught the noisily protesting dragon in his arm. Udon complained loudly even as it tried to cuddle closer to him.

“I know, I’m so mean to you,” McCree said dryly. He kissed Udon on the top of its head, earning a reluctant chirp, before putting the dragon back down on the bed.

The other side of the bed was relatively neatly made, though McCree moving around as he woke up had messed it a bit. The neatness would have been a major clue to McCree as to who was home, had the dragon not been a dead giveaway itself. 

McCree got up with a grunt, and found that outside of the slept-in blankets the house was a bit chilly. He shivered at the cold wooden floor on his bare feet before he found the goofy cactus-themed slippers Genji had gotten him for his birthday. He grabbed a fluffy throw off the end of the bed and wrapped it around his shoulders like a cloak. 

Udon, meanwhile, curled up were McCree had been sleeping and promptly went back to sleep. 

McCree shook his head and left the dragon be. Clutching his blanket to his collar, McCree shuffled from the bedroom to the bathroom. The shower had been used recently, it seemed; it smelled like shampoo and there was a little dampness to the edges of the mirror and the sink.

When he walked out from the bathroom he had a bounce to his step. Without the pressure of his bladder and the stubborn cling of sleep, McCree was eager to see the dragon’s master.

The hall was much brighter than the bedroom, lit from the open curtains in the living room. McCree ambled out, a small smile growing at the rearranging of McCree’s haphazard placing of Christmas decorations. 

An ongoing task, apparently; McCree softened at the sight of Hanzo, back to him, carefully pinning garland around the kitchen entryway.

“Looks great, darlin’,” McCree said. “The decorations do, too.”

Hanzo chuckled without turning around. “Flatterer,” he said. “Good morning.”

From around Hanzo’s neck, another sapphire, reptilian face peered at McCree and chittered at him. McCree crinkled his nose at the other dragon. “When did you get home?”

“Around two thirty,” Hanzo replied, releasing the rest of the garland to drape elegantly along the door frame. “You were sleeping. I did not want to wake you.” He turned and smiled at McCree, a sight that put a warmth through his chest. 

“Aw, honey, you know I wouldn’t have minded if it meant I’d get to see your pretty face sooner,” McCree said. He tossed his blanket on the back of a chair and stepped forward to Hanzo with his arm outstretched.

Hanzo met him halfway and buried his face in the crook of McCree’s neck. Somen purred and wiggled, trying to nuzzle McCree’s face. Hanzo squeezed McCree just a little too tight. “You would not have gone back to sleep,” he said into McCree’s shoulder.

McCree gripped Hanzo as tight as one arm allowed. “Don’t matter. You’re home now.” 

Both drew back just enough to allow room for a kiss, chaste and tender. It felt like coming home, which was silly in McCree’s mind, because it had been Hanzo who had been gone for three weeks.

Still--home was where the heart was, wasn’t that the phrase?

Hanzo cupped McCree’s face in both hands. “You have not been sleeping well,” he said.

“Do I ever?” he replied dryly. McCree reached up to place his hand on top of Hanzo’s. He felt the thin, hard band of Hanzo’s ring. “Missed you a lot. How did it go? Is everyone okay?”

“Yes, everyone is fine, and it went well. Nothing particularly special. Honestly, it was boring.” Hanzo shook his head. “In better news, however, I will be home for the rest of the month, and Winston said you, as well. Unless there is some huge emergency, we are unneeded until at least January.”

McCree grinned. “Really? We can… Hanzo, we can spend Christmas together, finally!”

“We can, indeed, Jesse. You will have to show me how you celebrate it.”

“Of course, Han. Genji’s told me y’all don’t do Christmas quite like we do. Not that I ever did a traditional Hallmark movie Christmas, either,” McCree said with a snort. “We’ll mash up all our traditions, make somethin’ unique.”

Hanzo’s smile could melt the coldest of ice. “I would love nothing more.”

McCree let go of Hanzo’s hand to scratch under Somen’s chin, earning a contented chirp. “How long until they wreck the tree, you reckon?”

“They are ancient, powerful spirit dragons that have been passed through my family for hundreds of generations,” Hanzo said. “I give them until this evening before they knock it over.”

McCree laughed. “Welcome home, Hanzo.”


	2. Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2: Cold weather  
> McCree isn't a fan of the snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is... lots of dialogue. theres no real plot or anything here. lots of cute flirting though

It was silent. 

The silence was different than what McCree was used to. The desert was silent, but not a silence like this. 

The snow, so pale it hurt his eyes a little, swallowed any noise. Even the weak breeze, biting cold, didn’t make the branches rattle. 

The landscape stretching out in front of McCree was leached of color. Not a dot of anything but black, gray, and white met his eyes besides the dusty red of his serape, wound tight over his ill-fitting parka. 

So when he heard a soft crunch behind him, he was startled.

“Are you alright?”

McCree relaxed. “I’m not bad,” he answered, turning.

While looking similarly chilled, Hanzo also seemed much less uncomfortable than McCree felt. His face was flushed, and he looked a little more pink than usual in contrast with the navy on his coat. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets. Hanzo arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you sure, Jesse? You’re shivering.”

McCree hadn’t noticed; then again, it felt like he’d been shivering constantly since they got here. “It’s just real cold. Not a fan of it.”

Hanzo reached out for him and stepped forward to meet him. The snow was up to Hanzo’s ankles. Though, it wasn’t like Hanzo felt the cold in his legs, much like McCree’s mostly numb left arm. McCree took his hand in his own. He missed the feeling of their skin touching, but it was far too cold to take off gloves. 

“We should go back inside, then,” Hanzo said. 

McCree nodded and raised his cigar. “Almost done. Thanks for being patient, honey.”

Hanzo smiled wryly. “The cold does not bother me quite as much,” he said. “You needn’t even complain; it is written all over your face.”

McCree blew out a puff of smoke and steam with a grimace. “I can complain, if you want.”

“I’d prefer you be vocal elsewhere.” There was a purr to his tone.

McCree’s face wasn’t flushed from just the cold as Hanzo smirked. 

“Well, I-- I--”

Hanzo squeezed his hand. “It is cold out here. And I have a few ideas to ensure we stay quite warm, inside, if you are interested.”

“I most certainly am.”

“Perhaps then you will stop being so miserable.”

“I ain’t--”

“You are. And I understand. I am not fond of the cold either, but you grew up someplace warm. Once our mission here is complete, we should try to go somewhere far south.”

“The beach would be real nice,” McCree said, sighing as he imagined lazy, hot nights with Hanzo by the ocean. “Who needs a white Christmas when we can have one in Mexico?” He brightened, tapping his cigar in his excitement. “And if we do that, I can also show you how we celebrate the holidays. It’s so gorgeous, and the food’s amazing. Probably won’t be quite how it was when I was young, ‘cause it’s been a mighty long time, and it’s a different region, but still, can’t be that different.”

Hanzo laughed and pulled McCree’s gloved hand close to press a stiff-lipped kiss to his knuckles and the ring underneath. “I would love nothing more. But do not get too ahead of yourself; we still have a job to do.”

“Yeah, yeah, ain’t a hard one, though. We’ve got loads of downtime.”

Hanzo shifted, making the snow crunch again. “Downtime I would certainly like to take advantage of.”

“I don’t know what has gotten into you, but I’m real okay with it,” McCree teased, leaning down to kiss Hanzo’s cold nose. 

Hanzo scrunched his face. “I take it back. I do not want your face anywhere near anything sensitive with you that cold.”

McCree laughed. “Alright, is that how it goes?” He took a final drag from his cigar and tamped it out with his metal thumb. “I need the biggest mug of hot chocolate we have inside.”

“Spiked?”

“Naturally, darlin’. You ever had bourbon in hot cocoa? You’re missin’ out.”

“Acquaint me, then.”

“Gladly. I’ll acquaint you with lots of things.”

“Oh, no, no, I am intimately familiar with what you are referring to.”

The snow crunched under heeled boots and metal legs as the two trudged back to the barely-a-base-of-operations safehouse. “Once I can feel my… well, my everything, my every inch of skin currently being turned into ice… I don’t remember where I was going with that sentence, I’m really cold.”

Hanzo snorted. “I do not want to have to drag my frozen husband inside and thaw you with a hairdryer.”

“Like a caveman in those cartoons. Or… Captain America.”

“You are ridiculous.”

“Part of my charm,” he said. 

Hanzo linked their fingers. Though perception was minimal in his left hand, McCree still felt the gentle squeeze of his fingers. He responded in kind.

The moment McCree stepped inside, he breathed out a sigh of relief. Slowly, the two began to strip off snow-caked layers with cold-stiffened fingers and a few frosty kisses. Stealing touches as feeling returned to their extremities, they hastened their inner warmth with hot chocolate spiked with bourbon. 

Eventually more fabric met the floor and their fingers were reluctant to ever leave the warmth of each other. Their kisses tasted of whiskey and they forgot the bitter cold outside. They didn’t notice, and wouldn’t have cared, when snow began to fall again, silently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come stop by my tumblr @softbutchcowboy

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @softbutchcowboy


End file.
